


Death And All His Friends

by voxious



Category: Twenty One Pilots
Genre: Alternate Universe, Cheating, Coming of Age, EDIT-Tyler is really dumb, Established Relationship, Happy Ending, Implied Sexual Content, Light Angst, M/M, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Reunion Sex, engagements, heartbreak???
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-04-29
Updated: 2017-02-09
Packaged: 2018-06-05 08:24:19
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 6
Words: 9,249
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6697276
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/voxious/pseuds/voxious
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>All winter we got carried, oh way over on the rooftops, let's get married.<br/>All summer we just hurried. So come over, just be patient, and don't worry.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Hello friends! I hope this isn't as jumbled as I think this is. Chapter one is just an introduction so there are many flashbacks and freaky tenses...you'll catch on. Let me know what you think.

**_January_ **

 

“We could run away.”

He doesn't know why he suggests it. But he does; at least once every two or three months. Just an ounce of spontaneity added to their otherwise completely normal lives.

“We could.” Tyler says softly, running his fingers through Josh's hair. Josh hums low and content. “Where would we go?”

“Mm..Vegas.” Josh suggests, smiling. His eyes are closed but he's sighing into the rise and fall of Tyler’s stomach and the feeling of Tyler's fingers scratching along his scalp. “Finally put a ring on it.”

Tyler scoffs, flattening his fingers on Josh's head before glancing down at his boy. His hair is his own natural deep brown, soft and beautiful laced through Tyler's fingers. He considers it. For a second. “You wanna get married?” Tyler asks. “We wouldn't even make it to the end of the street, let alone Nevada.”

“But that's not a no.” Josh says, tilting his head up and looking Tyler in the eyes. He begins moving his thumbs in circles from where they're pressed into Tyler's hips. A silent but persuasive and comforting gesture. “You'd totally be up for it.”

“Well yeah if we weren't young and stupid.” Tyler elaborates, poking Josh in the forehead. Almost as punishment for coming up with the tempting idea in the first place. “My parents would kill me if they knew I left with you. Yours would kill you twice.”

“But you do love me.” Josh says, rather than asks, slithering his way up Tyler's body, bracketing his head with his hands. Josh dips his head to connect his lips with Tyler's softly, nipping on his bottom lip almost as if he was asking for reassurance. _You love me right?_

 _“_ Of course I do.” Tyler says, reciprocating the softness. He lifts a hand and holds it to Josh's cheek. The warmth radiates off his skin. Like Josh's absolute fondness for him had physically manifested itself into something tangible. “More than anything and anyone.”

It's Tyler who closes the distance between them this time, pulling Josh's lips down onto his own. They breathe each other in like oxygen. Like if they were to separate, the earth as they knew it would cease to exist.

Josh takes a sharp breath through his nose, deepening the kiss by licking into Tyler's mouth. Tyler's eyebrows furrow, his fingers find their way into Josh's hair again, and he pulls. He wraps his legs around Josh's hips and he clings to Josh because he’s his. He will always be his.

It was nights like this that always fueled them. Nights where they could be themselves. _By_ themselves. It takes Tyler back to when they met. They were so so young and had no idea of the flames biting at their wrists when they’d rolled around wrestling on fresh-cut grass when they were eleven. Were even more unaware of the same flames biting at their insides when they’d shared their first shy kiss at thirteen. (“I think I liked that.” Tyler had said afterward. “Uh,” Josh had tried, cheeks _too_ red. “Me too.”)

“Tomorrow.” Josh says, pulling back to face his boy again. “I'll slip my keys off my dad. We’ll be gone by breakfast.”

“Okay,” Tyler says, still clinging to Josh's frame. “I'll go anywhere with you.”

 

**_May_ **

 

They don't leave the next morning.

In fact, they never really do. It’s not like they were ever _serious_ about that stuff, anyway.

They graduate in the spring, alongside 200 other classmates. Tyler graduates with honors, earning full scholarships to both The Ohio State University for basketball, and some crazy expensive music school in New York- as Josh refers to it- for Music Theory.

Josh barely scrapes by, graduating with the minimum number of credits required, 40 hours of government issued community service- which was a total misunderstanding, by the way-, and one forced season of lacrosse. (“You need to get out there,” his mother had said. “Make some friends. You could find a new passion.” He didn't.) His family’s proud anyway.

His father ruffles his hair, and his sisters squeeze his hands, and his mother kisses him on the cheek and whispers in his ear how _absolutely proud she is of him._

He’s happy.

But he knows what's coming.

“I'll be back before you even know I was gone,” Tyler says, running his fingers over Josh's bare chest softly. “It'll be like a blink, or a shitty nap. New York’s not that far.”

It’s a few hours after the ceremony. They'd said their thank-yous and I-love-yous quickly before dashing off. They'd kissed in the parking lot, Josh pushing the backs of Tyler's robe-clad thighs onto the warm hood of the truck they were supposed to escape in together, months before. Tyler had thrown Josh's cap into the bushes over his shoulder. Some grand ‘freedom!’ type gesture. The stark white on green seemed like symbolism, or something. He didn't care, though. Not with Tyler on his lips.

“Let’s get outta here?” Tyler had suggested.

So they did.

Josh laughs, draping an arm over his eyes, shielding them from the fluorescence of Tyler's smile. “I don't like naps. You fall asleep and wake up like no time has passed, then you're fucked for the rest of the day.”

Tyler laughs with him, removing Josh's arm from over his face and draping it around his own bare waist. The small full bed creaks and the even smaller pink blanket draped over them shifts when Tyler maneuvers his body closer. “It won't be fucked when I get back.” Tyler assures. “I promise. I'll come back and we'll get a shitty apartment and we'll have shitty jobs and be us again.”

“You better promise.” Josh asks. He's still smiling but his eyes rake over Tyler's face, looking for signs of uncertainty. He brings his thumb to Tyler's cheekbone, stroking it soothingly. “I'm gonna marry you someday. I promise that.”

Tyler smiles that sunshine smile again, kissing josh hard on the lips. “You fucking better.” He teases, flinching at the sound of a car door out the window. His eyes go wide when he remembers where they are “Josh, we're naked.”

Josh shrugs for a second nodding his head. “I did fuck you like twenty minutes ago.”

Tyler blushes getting out of bed quickly. “Josh, seriously there’s gonna be a party.” He warns, jumping out of bed and tugging on his underwear quickly. He turns back to Josh, hurriedly pulling his shirt over his head. “Your mom said she got a banner and balloons and everyth- What.”

Josh smiles up at him, lazily spread across the bed in post orgasm stupor,

“I love you, you know.”

Tyler pauses for a second, searching through his mind for which he would choose if someone asked him if he could physically get stuck in any moment of his life. He thinks he wouldn’t hesitate to choose this one every time.

“We have to go _downstairs_ . Before both our families come up here to see what ‘ _it is that we're up to young men!’”_ Tyler explains thoroughly, doing his best ‘disappointed mom’ impression, to get it through Josh's mind that he wouldn't necessarily _love_ to be caught by his parents and siblings, naked in bed with his “best friend”.

“Okay, okay but come here for a second.” Josh whines, taking Tyler's hand.

Tyler gives it to him faux exasperatedly, before being pulled dramatically back on top of Josh with an “Oof.” And a howling laugh.

“I hope you know this blanket is my sister's.” Josh admits.

Tyler groans into his chest for what seems like hours.

They'll be okay, Josh decides.

 

**_September_ **

 

Tyler leaves on a Tuesday.

The sun isn't shining and the birds are barely chirping when the sound of a car trunk slams shut. Josh thinks the weather is on his side.  

The summer went as you would expect it to.

Every moment they could've spent together, was. Whether it was huddled on the couch giggling while the unpredictability of Ohio summer storms raged on outside their windows, or panting under blankets. The heat of bare skin on bare skin keeping them grounded. Hard, rushed, kisses being pressed everywhere and anywhere they could reach, expressed as makeshift prayers and confessions of ‘ _please don't leave me I love you I’m absolutely crazy about you._ ’

At the beginning of August, Josh's mom had tried to convince her love-lusted son to get a job. (“Just to get a head start on the fall.” She had said. “If you're not going to school at least think a little bit about your future, honey.”) Josh had mumbled a very unconvincing maybe every time she mentioned it. He was thinking about his future. He was thinking about how in a month his future would be walking straight out of his life for years. A job could wait.

But now Tyler's leaving and the sun hasn't actually shone in days and Josh has an interview with the owner of a music shop downtown on Thursday.

“That's the last of it.” Tyler chimes, tugging the collar of his jacket further up his neck. “I think I'm ready.”

“Oh you’ll never be ready.” Tyler's mom says softly. She has a hand held to her mouth, most likely fighting back the tears Josh told himself he wouldn't let spill. Hers do, though, when she pulls her son into a tight hug. “But I know you'll be fantastic,” She whispers, voice cracking.

Josh knows that too.

They'd said their goodbyes privately the night before. Limbs wrapped around each other from where they were positioned sitting, facing each other on Josh's bed. First on Josh's list was to mark him up as much as he could. Because Tyler was _his_ and he wanted everyone to know it.

“Something to remember me by,” Josh had said, trailing his fingertips over the purpling marks covering Tyler's neck and chest. “Something to keep those pretty boy music prodigies off _my_ pretty boy music prodigy.”

Tyler had just pressed his face into Josh's shoulder. Laughing and inhaling the scent of him. He stored it in the back of his mind.

When the laugh had subsided a sudden wave of emotion flooded over him. Like a fucking tsunami that had waited until the very last moment to crash onto shore. He had clung to Josh harder thinking if he let go he would disappear forever instead of just for a little bit, and let a few tears slip.

“Hey what's wrong? Hey.” Josh asked quietly taking Tyler's face in his hands, wiping the tears off Tyler's flushed cheeks with his thumbs.

“I don't want to leave you.” Tyler breathed out. The air surrounding them was stale and uninviting. It was not a goodbye but it _felt_ like one. He’d sighed, pressing his face back into Josh's shirt. “I never want to leave you.”

“It's like a blink remember.” Josh had said. Tyler had felt him smiling from where his chin was perched on Tyler's head. He'd also thought he heard him sniffle. “Not a forever.”

Tyler had felt it then. Stronger than any other time, any other night, after any other kiss.

As soon as his breathing had evened out he spoke up, admitting to the air, “I'm in love with you Joshua Dun.”

Tears had started to run down Josh's cheeks, when he smiled and answered in a shaky voice, “And I with you, Tyler Joseph.”

Josh is gonna throw up.

“Hey,” Tyler says evenly. His eyes rimmed a faded red. Not fooling anyone.

“Hey,” Josh says back. Not quite as evenly.

He was _choking._ He was going to die. He might as well write ‘my soul’ on a piece of paper, fold it up, and slip it into Tyler's back pocket because Josh felt it would be much safer with him. ( _“Keep it,” Josh would say, “it belongs with you.”_ )

“God,” Josh chokes out, pulling Tyler into a tighter hug than his own mother’s. “Call me.”

“Try and stop me.” Tyler replies.

When Tyler pulls out of the driveway, luggage and Josh's entire being in tow, is when Josh's mom places a hand on his shoulder. He doesn't flinch from where he’s standing, facing the long stretch of road the love of his life had begun to travel down. His feet are planted like even a jackhammer couldn't break up the asphalt and free them. But he _had_ forgotten she was there.

Could you blame him.

“I know,” Is all she says.

Josh wonders how much she knows.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi! Sorry for the delay. Finals are coming up and I've been super busy. Hope this makes up for it being a couple days late!
> 
> Also, don't worry if you think things are going too fast aka "What just happened is that it?!" There's more to it. I promise.

**_December, 4 years later_ **

 

“-and that is exactly why I don’t fuck with banjo players. _Josh_.”

Josh looks up from the spreadsheet he’s been typing a continuous string of zeros into for 30 spaced out seconds, and curses his keyboard for being so incredibly responsive. “Sorry, Bren, what?”

Brendon just rolls his eyes, standing up straight and tapping a stark beat into the countertop. “Nothing, man. You closing up tonight? If so I’m heading out.”

Josh glances at the clock in the corner of the dim computer screen, catching a glimpse of the date. A bitter taste fills his mouth. “It’s only 5:00. You sure?”

Brendon shrugs on his jacket while simultaneously flipping the open sign to closed, and unplugs each of the display pianos. “Gotta make the most of the night while you’re young, kid. Don’t make the same mistakes I did.”

If there’s one thing Josh has picked up in his four years of working the same job at the same counter in the same music shop, it’s that Brendon Urie is no old man. He may be a few years older than Josh, but he has the mind of a sixteen year-old.

In fact, on that Thursday four long years ago he’d expected the owner to be much older. Maybe not elderly, but just old enough to have gone through a few different eras of music. Instead when he’d shown up, a baby-faced twenty-two year old had greeted him at the door with only two questions. What instrument do you play and can you stock alphabetically. (“I dabble at hitting things, and I do know the alphabet.” Josh had said. “Perfect.” Brendon had responded. “You can start right now if you want.”) Brendon has a passion for music Josh hasn’t seen since- a very long time ago.

“Yeah whatever get out of here, grandpa.” Josh teases, making sure to heave a heavy sigh and pretend to wipe a day’s worth of sweat off his brow.

“Don’t hurt yourself, Dun,” Brendon fires back. He kisses his palm and makes sure to make a show of violently throwing the kiss at Josh’s head, then slips out the back door.

“No problem,” Josh says much too loudly in the now silent room. The air is thick, but cold. His breath almost forms a cloud in front of him.

He spends most nights like this. Just him, page after page of sheet music, stacks of vinyls and CDs, and the chipping yellow paint on the walls. The awning outside makes a shrill howling noise as the wind picks up. The green tarp flaps against the window.The building isn’t particularly old, but it isn’t new either. Sometimes Josh wishes he was older. Wishes he knew more of the building’s story.

He decides he’ll look into that more later though, because now it’s snowing and he’d forgotten it gets dark much earlier now. He’d like to make it home while the roads were devoid of slippery ice and slippery people with their slippery tongues.

Tonight’s a get-wasted-by-yourself kind of night anyway.

On that note, he glances at the corner of the screen again, almost egging himself on saying, ‘Come on, man. You’re losing your fucking mind over the date. Someday you’re going to have to get over the fact that the first of December is just a _day_.’

He seems to finally crunch under the weight of himself, resorting to fully shutting down the computer. He holds the power button until every blinking light no longer blinks and every fan no longer whirrs and all that’s left is his reflection staring back at him.

 _‘Coward_.’ He thinks he sees himself mouth. He ignores it though. Just tugs on a hat and slips out the back door, locking it swiftly behind him.

 

-

 

“I'm just saying I think you should come home. Right now.”

Josh runs a hand through his hair frustratingly, toying with the cup of water that was merely a formality in the midst of the surprise visitor. He had barely stepped foot through the door when his sisters pacing silhouette had caught him entirely off guard. At least he knew she had a key. "Ash, I kind of had plans.”

The girl nods her head slowly, making her way over to the cabinet to the left of Josh's fridge. She pulls out a bottle of scotch, knuckles threatening to break the skin of the fist wrapped around the neck of the bottle. She sets it on the counter firmly in front of her brother. “Are these your plans?”

“It's been a long week.” Josh defends, scrubbing a hand over his face. He hasn't shaved in a few days. The stubble scrapes sharp against his palm.

“Just come with me, asshole.” She fires right back, crossing her arms. The wrinkles of her coat strain against her shoulders. She looks powerful, Josh notices. “Mom wants to see you. She says you haven't called in weeks.”

“There has to be another reason,” Josh says quietly. His voice is muffled by the bottle he raises to his lips. He takes a strong swig then screws the cap back on, pushing the bottle away. “Mom wouldn't deploy her strongest soldier for just a visit.”

“Just trust me,” Ashley rolls her eyes. The heels of her boots click on the cracked linoleum when she walks over to where Josh's keys lie. She picks them up and tosses them at Josh's chest. “You're driving.”

Who is he to evade such perseverance?

 

-

 

The drive is quiet. Not awkwardly so. They’re used to each other’s silences.

The radio has been stuck on the same station for years. When he was 17, he hit a bump, sending whatever parts were already loose, flying looser, and the knobs had stopped working. It was perfect at the time. A constant stream of classical woodwind or sometimes even orchestral melodies. Now the soft twinkling of piano keys just stings. Halfway home she asks about it. (“It’s just like that,” He tells her, “I don’t remember when it wasn’t.”)

When he pulls up to the curb after 18 minutes if Beethoven’s 3080th symphony, he’s startled by the number of cars parked in the driveway and along the curb. He didn’t remember having this much family and he definitely didn’t remember why he had agreed to step back out his front door.

Oh right. He trusted his sister.

“What’s going on?” Josh asks, tugging on his own sleeves. He makes it to the sidewalk then stops, watching shadows dance across the drapes in the windows of the house he used to live in. “Did someone die?”

“Birthday party.” Ashley deadpans, trekking the rest of the lawn to the door.

Josh follows behind, confused. He flips through a mental calendar, counting the months between his birthday and now.

June. He steps in the door. July. August.September. He takes off his coat just before his mother rushes up to him, kissing one cheek and gripping the other much too tightly. October. He notices straggling groups of people scattered around a bigger one. A small blonde girl babbles excitedly, white teeth and lime green fingernails fluttering quickly in and out of view. Josh decides she reminds him of a hummingbird. November. People are clapping and smiling. A familiar boy spills a drink on his shirt. Beer stained yellow sticking to his stomach. Josh laughs at him, still making his way through the crowd to see just what they’re clapping about--

December.

Josh’s heart stops.

He’s hunched over a lopsided pile of chocolate frosting, birthday candles lighting up his face. All too familiar features, sharper and glowing.

A woman’s voice speaks up over the ringing in Josh’s ears. He doesn’t place a body to the sound. Can’t register anything other than his name. Oh, his name.

“Happy Birthday, Tyler”

Josh’s knees threaten to buckle because he’s here and he’s beautiful and how dare that girl not tell him--

They lock eyes.

Somewhere in between Josh going into cardiac arrest, then becoming aware of it, Tyler had blown out his candles,

Plumes of smoke rose above his head, winding through his hair, and he had looked up. He had looked up and found Josh’s eyes immediately. Like he had a million times a million years ago. Like he was born to.

They stay like that for what seems like years. Tyler seems genuinely shaken, as all color drains from his face. He brings a hand up to his mouth and his eyes are glossy. It reminds Josh of how his mother had looked when he left. Uncertain of if her son would even remember her, let alone come back.

He doesn’t make their silent reunion known, though. Doesn’t push through the crowd and jump into Josh’s arms like Josh thought he would.

Instead, he stands, and walks into the kitchen.

Josh takes it as a cue to follow when everyone in the crowd seems too preoccupied by themselves to notice Tyler had left. He lifts his right leg, then his left, each weighing approximately 200 lbs, as he makes his way to Tyler. Although, in all honesty, he would deadlift 2,000lbs to make his way to Tyler.

The first thing Josh notices when stepping through the doorway is the ink.

Bands of it, wrapped around Tyler’s wrist. Blocks of it organized on Tyler’s forearm. He can’t read it. He'll ask what it means later.

The second thing Josh notices is _Tyler._

How close they are, standing in the middle of his parents’ dark kitchen, after three and a half years of not being anything.

The light trickling in from the other room along with the moonlight illuminates their faces. Just enough. Tyler’s eyes are calm.

“Your hair’s pink,” Tyler says, cutting through the silence.

Josh doesn’t say anything back. He just kisses him.

It’s a four year long kiss. A kiss that closes the distance between urban New York and suburban Ohio.

Tyler brings his hands up to press into Josh’s jaw, fingertips fluttering almost like the girl’s; lime green and red hot against his skin.

Josh is angry too. Angry at whoever took this from him for so long. Angry at himself for letting them take it.

Tyler seems to notice Josh’s eyebrows beginning to furrow so he pulls back, lime green fingers still smoothing over Josh’s skin. “Let’s get outta here?” He suggests.

So they do.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'M SO SORRY I HAVE NO EXCUSES JUST EXAMS!! ARE HELL!! Short-but-important chapter to tide you over until the end of this week when I'll finally be out of school!! (updates should happen much regularly after that) All patience is appreciated :)

“It's weird, you know?”

Tyler scratches at the hair sticking up on the back of his head, fidgeting around in the old upholstered seat of Josh's truck. “The last time I was in here was four years ago.”

Josh's knuckles tighten around the wheel a little bit at the repressed memories now flooding to the surface. “Yeah.” He manages, cracking a smile in courtesy at the asphalt speeding past in front of him. “‘It's been a while.”

“Yeah.” Tyler breathes back.

Every few seconds Josh glances over at him. Taking in new characteristics and the changes in old ones. His hair is longer now- not by much, just on top- and the bags under his eyes are puffier, almost permanent-looking. He's gorgeous, all the same. A shadowy version of the old him, it seems.

“How is everything?” Tyler says softly, breaking Josh from his reverie.

Josh is honestly miserable, but his brain betrays him into thinking everything couldn't be much better. His boy's back and in his passenger seat and he wants to scream “Thank you!” to whoever's in charge of the universe until his lungs are heaving. He tries keeping his response to as few words as possible, though. “Everything's fine.”

“Good I’m glad. I missed everyone.” Tyler answers.

 _‘I missed you.'_ Josh refrains from saying. _‘And I’m mad at you. I’m so fucking mad at you._ ’ He keeps a straight face. Just in case.

Tyler glances around the cab, nostalgia flooding him like crazy until his eyes meet the radio, lips tugging up into a crooked smile. “Remember when I tried giving you road head that one time and you got so flustered you hit a bump too fast and-”

Josh hits the brakes suddenly, jolting everything and everyone in the front seats and causing Tyler to cough when the seat belt is pulled taut across his chest. “Red light. Sorry”

Tyler tugs on his hoodie strings and huffs out a sigh. “Honestly, I get that you could be a little mad at me right now, but-”

“I'm just wondering, why now?” Josh replies before Tyler's finished. He turns the wheel, swiping his tongue out across his bottom lip. He's frustrated. With Tyler and himself. For missing some of the most important years of his life.

Tyler's eyebrows furrow and he brings a hand up to his eyes, wiping the darkness out of them. “What do you mean why now?”

Josh makes another sharp turn into an old parking lot. Plants and moss grow out of the cracks in the concrete and there's a single glass door on the back of a large building. He turns off the ignition and breathes out slowly. The straggling breaths of the engine seem to flow from in him when his shoulders tense up and his body turns towards the occupied passenger seat, voice rising ever so slightly.  “Why come back now. Why not months ago. Why not never.”

Tyler doesn't face him. Just stares out the windshield at the streaks of pink and yellow painting the sky and bathing the building in warm light. “What,” He manages after a few seconds, “Not happy to see me?”

“Typical fucking, you.” Josh spits, getting out of the truck and slamming the door.

Tyler’s shoes hit the asphalt soon after, trailing after Josh like a puppy with its feelings hurt. His voice booms louder than his aura though, hands moving a mile a minute- he's always been a hand talker- eyes growing wide and wild and somehow, even darker. “What do you want me to say, J? Huh? That I'm an idiot and I'm sorry for having a life?”

Josh scoffs, shoving his hands in his pockets and pacing in front of the truck. He kicks a pebble across the parking lot and hears it clink against a broken beer bottle. “No but you can say sorry for forgetting that I was supposed to be a part of it.”

Tyler's scowl intensifies with the impact of Josh's words. His hands fly to his hair again, tugging- a coping mechanism for something. Josh has never seen him this handsy. Tyler was never this nervous. Before Tyler was loud and funny and made everybody laugh. Not..like this.

“We aren't talking about this now.” Tyler borderline growls. “We were supposed to be catching up. Good things that have happened in the past four years. I feel like I don't even know you anymore, Josh.”

“And whose fault is that.” Josh laughs softly, making his way to the door and holding it open for a fuming Tyler.

They climb the stairs to Josh's apartment in silence for a moment. Like strangers with the way they have their hands shoved in pockets instead of intertwined or around shoulders like when they were teenagers.

“It might be yours for fucking bringing it up in the first place.”

“Right, because a giant fucking elephant in the room would've been much nicer. Wait, sorry, that kiss _was_ my bad. It won't happen again.”

“I don't know what you want me to say.” Tyler hardens, stopping at the top of the third floor.

Josh keeps walking down the hallway, fumbling with his keys and shoving them into the lock. “Just say you fucking missed me!” He shouts breathlessly, giving up. He flings the door open and it slams against the doorstop.  “It's been four years, not forty! We don't have to act like we're fucking strangers!”

“You think I didn't miss you?” Tyler says back, taking a few steps forward. He looks more hurt now than over the course of the entire evening.

Josh opens his mouth like he's going to say something when Tyler surges forward completely and messily captures Josh's lips with his own.

It's rushed and sloppy and they're gasping for air but it's perfect perfect perfect because in this moment everything clicks.

Tyler works to wrap his legs around Josh's hips and they move together, Josh slams the door and then Tyler against it pulling at his clothes and roaming his neck with lonely lips.

“You really are- shit- a fucking idiot.” Josh breathes into Tyler's mouth.

“Trust me, ah, I know.” Tyler pants, grinding down as much as he can with gravity on his side, and lacing his fingers through Josh's hair.

“Fuck- bed?” Josh asks, already moving towards his bedroom.

“Please.” Tyler squeaks just before he's thrown back first onto the creaking mattress.

 


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> NO EXCUSES JUST SORRYSORRYSORRY
> 
> anyway, you know the calm before a storm? Yeah.

Thinking is something Josh does a lot. More than anything else. But the minute Tyler seemed to appear back into his life, which wasn’t over 5 hours ago thankfully, he seemed to stop thinking. Especially as their skin touched and the pieces fell into place for the first time in years; his mind went completely blank, maybe, for the first time ever.

Josh can’t seem to breathe either. The thick air of his bedroom swirled with the smell of sweat and the dark city air does a lot to his senses. He wonders if the atmosphere of the entire city changed when Tyler set foot in it again. The balcony door is open and the last signs of daylight are finally disappearing from the cloudy sky but Josh thinks maybe the sun is trying to hold on, trying to stay and peek through the curtains to get a glimpse of the boy with stars sewn into his pockets. Tyler, the boy himself, lays next to him, on his back, chest heaving and sweat slicked shoulders still twitching every now and then with aftershocks of a long overdue and absolutely fucking obscene orgasm. His eyes are wide open staring at the ceiling, but every few seconds they’ll blink, quick, as if maybe he could blink himself back in time and tell their young selves to do this more often.

Flopped on their backs in the middle of Josh’s bed, tangled in his sheets is a state Josh thinks he could spend his entire life in. The stickiness and out of breath sensation makes him feel alive and to have Tyler in his bed again, he felt like a gross, horny, head in the clouds _teenager_. The look on his face only grows hazier.

“I’m engaged,” Tyler speaks up, lime green fingers shakily seeking solace in their own hair, tugging, _punishing_ , and Josh can’t fucking _see_.

He’s blind and his stomach is clenching because how dare someone take this from him when he just fucking got it _back_.

“You’re what?” Josh asks, sitting up in bed and crawling away away away, tripping over his own feet and trying stand against the wall. He’s naked and exposed and suddenly feels vulnerable.

“Engaged.” Tyler replies. His voice is scratchy and soft and if Josh weren’t about to punch a hole in his already damaged walls he’d be getting hard again. “I’m fucking stupid, too.”

“And you didn’t think to tell me before we-” Josh glances at the ground, his hoodie lies twisted together with Tyler’s sweater. It makes him want to scream. “Before any of this?”

“I promise I wanted to but I couldn’t.” Tyler explains, hurriedly, sitting up. He looks at Josh now like he’s afraid he’ll leave him. Which is a reasonable way to approach a situation like this. “You were there and you were fucking gorgeous and it hit me.”

“What hit you.” Josh asks, covering half his face with a heavy palm.

Tyler's eyebrows draw upward and his lips curve up into a twitching smile as he plays with the sheets, twisting them between suddenly royal blue fingers, but the smile fades as soon as it appears. “Nothing, forget about it.”

“Tyler I-” Josh tries, but fails, stirring the words swirling around in his head, causing them to drip off of his teeth and onto the tip of his tongue. But he still can't get them out. He can't reach them.

“No, Josh, I get it you don’t have to say any-”

Josh interrupts him by punching the wall.

“Jesus _fucking_ Christ.” Josh Groans, clutching at his fist, which at first glance had already begun bruising. He turns on his heel, grabbing his pants and his hoodie and stalks over towards his balcony- a safe place. A thinking place. Maybe if he goes there Tyler will get out of his head- He doesn’t know what he means when he blurts out a “Don’t,” before disappearing behind the french doors.

Josh’s apartment is about 4 stories up, so the small slab of concrete surrounded by railing hanging on the side of the building isn’t too high, but the view is still as calming as it gets around here. It had been one of the only reasons he’d put an offer on the place, really. It was a simple shithole, and he liked it.

His fingers still shake, though as he tugs a cigarette out of it’s pack, sticks it between his teeth still dripping with words, and lights it. He’s calmer now. A tiny flame sparking a cliche scene.

“I didn’t know you smoked.”

Josh jumps a bit at the sound of Tyler’s voice, whipping his head around to see him dressed in only underwear and the gray t-shirt Josh had been wearing. It’s completely unfair how Tyler seems to be the only one with access to the antennae that dictate whether Josh’s brain receives static or not. Josh’s cheeks heat up as he turns back around, settling into the railing again.

Tyler pads over, cold concrete stinging his feet, and settles next to Josh on the railing. He reaches over grabbing the cigarette from his fingers and takes a long slow drag before returning it. Exhaling smoke over a city you used to know can sometimes be a good way to get to know it again.

“What’s his name?” Josh asks, red hot fingers tapping against the white filter.

Tyler smiles down at a police car that races by, sirens blaring. “Her name’s Jenna.”

“ _Ah,_ so that’s what it is then,” Josh says, smiling now.

“It’s not like that,” Tyler insists waving his hands out in front of him, to, literally, clear the air. “I met her at a party 3 years ago. She was the only one sitting outside with a full cup of beer left in her hand. When I asked her why, she’d said she needed air and that she didn’t even want to be there. Said that her friends had dragged her along. So, we got to talking and I found out she was from Ohio too, but she didn’t go to school there, she just worked in the city,” Tyler exhales, making grabby fingers at the cigarette again. “I got her number because I thought it was fate.”

Josh feels a pinch in his chest at the word _fate_. It was childish and silly but he’s pretty sure when he and Tyler had met- even as kids- the same word had popped into his head. “What’s she like?”

“She’s,” Tyler swirls his tongue over his teeth, searching for the right words. “Nice,” He settles on. “She’s got these eyes that kind of suffocate you.”

Josh nods, finally stubbing the cigarette out on the railing and tossing it over onto the street. “Do you love her?”

The air seems to get ten degrees cooler- even in already-cold December- when Josh asks the simple question and Josh thinks he sees Tyler’s hands shake as he crosses his arms.

“I don’t know.” Tyler answers, after thirty long seconds of silence.

“You might want to figure that out before you marry her.” Josh snaps, immediately feeling horrible. “I’m sorry, I didn’t-”

“It’s fine. You’re right.” Tyler dismisses, hanging his head, hearing the pulse in his ears and the sound of his teeth scraping together. “That’s why we came back now. The wedding’s in march but I wanted to get a job and she wants to look at houses and meet my parents.”

“So much for our shitty place, right.” Josh says. He doesn’t realize how forlorn he sounds, looking dramatically off into the distance, until he feels Tyler’s cold hands wrap around his and a head on his shoulder.

“I’m sorry.” Tyler says, almost too soft to hear.

“We can’t do this, Ty.” Josh says closing his eyes and breathing in the smell of smoke and _Tyler Tyler Tyler_.

“We definitely shouldn’t,” Tyler explains, pressing a kiss to Josh’s bare shoulder. “But this might be the last time we _get_ to do this,” Another kiss, “So I don’t know about you, but I’m gonna go take my clothes off.”

When Tyler untangles their hands and tiptoes back inside, Josh feels like screaming. His bare chest burns orange and yellow and he thinks he could personally challenge god- the one he doesn’t know if he believes in anymore- to a duel. He shouldn’t do this. It's dangerous and wrong, he knows it is, but then again when has he ever truly done the right thing?

He turns around, already unbuttoning his jeans, and strides inside to the boy that’s only his for tonight.

For now at least, it’s enough.


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You're probably mad at me. I am too. Trust me. 
> 
> This !important! chapter is dedicated 2 Laurel.

“No, Josh. Like this.”

Tyler dribbles the ball in between his legs again, then shoots it. The ball flies through the air then sinks through the net perfectly.

Josh squints and examines his ball as if it had been the thing causing his lack of skill. He gives up soon though, throwing it into the grass and crossing his arms. “I guess it's not my thing. How do you do it so easily?”

Tyler stands up straight and proceeds to balance his ball on his index finger, spinning it until it remains rotating on its own. “It's not that hard.”

“Bullshit.” Josh fires, slapping the ball off Tyler's finger and attempting to dribble it out of Tyler's range. It doesn't seem to work because Tyler maneuvers himself between Josh and the towering hoop, grabbing the ball and shooting it, making the shot, again.

“You should go pro, Dun!” Tyler shouts, throwing sweaty arms into the air in triumph as Josh pouts, taking a seat on the driveway, not so expertly avoiding a giant chalk drawing of a rainbow.

“Not my thing.” Josh says again brushing some of Tyler's sister's drawing off of his knees. “You seem pretty confident. Why don't _you_ join the NBA?”

This seems to hit a sore spot in Tyler because abruptly he's snapping “oh, right that's what everyone says.”

Josh is taken aback for a moment and his mouth falls open as he abandons playing with his shoelaces. “Ty I didn't mean it like that. I'm sorry.”

“It's fine, it's not your fault” Tyler sighs, plopping down on the asphalt inches away from his friend. “I'm just stressed about what I actually wanna do.”

Josh pokes at the hand that now rests against his knee before bringing it into his lap and holding it there, keeping tyler steady. “Have you thought about doing basketball as like, a job?”

“Yeah.” Tyler admits, leaning his head on Josh's shoulder. They're both dripping with sweat but neither of them mind. They could never miss out on chances to touch. “But I've been thinking lately, what if there's _more_?”

Josh's chest tightens a bit when he says the word more. It's an unconscious reaction to something that could sound a lot like something _more than Josh_. It's a ridiculous thought either way and he dismisses it as soon as it arrives.

“There's always gonna be something more.” Josh reassures, finally resting his head on top of Tyler's. “You just gotta choose which something is enough.”

Tyler doesn't say anything for a while after that.

“You wanna go make out?”

Josh scrambles to his feet, brushing off the backs of his thighs and squints again, at the sun this time. As if contemplating an answer he'd had before the question was even asked.

“Uh yeah.”

Josh goes to grab Tyler's hand to pull him up and inside but the hand he grabs is cold, feeling heavy and slack. He looks up at Tyler's face, taking in the way he swiftly looks tired and pale.

“Josh.” Tyler says, loud. Almost screaming.

Josh’s eyebrows furrow with concern when he moves to hold Tyler’s shoulders. “Holy shit are you okay? Tyler?”

“ _Josh_.Josh.JOSH.” Suddenly, Tyler's screaming. Repeating his name over and over until the sun seems to grow 100 times brighter and Josh drops to his knees, clutching his ears.

His own eyes are squeezed shut.  Then opened to wild dark ones.

“Josh.” Tyler says, palms clammy. He’s got a vice like grip on josh’s bare shoulder but he’s dressed. Sweater on inside out and hair disheveled just perfectly. “Someone’s been knocking on the door for like 10 minutes.”

Josh blinks up at him registering where he is. His heart skips a beat when he remembers what they did. Why Tyler was in his bed. He speaks up, “Why don’t you answer it?” obviously.

Tyler removes his hand quickly, like Josh’s skin hurt to touch. Like he was a hot stove. “I don’t live here.”

Josh would fight. He would. But now he hears it. The knocking, loud and sharp.

He glances at the clock then at the floor, Tyler’s phone is lit up from an incoming call. It goes to voicemail and returns to the lock screen displaying the time, 7:24 AM, and 12 missed calls from the same person.  

Now, the logical side of Josh would be panicking, picking up the phone, tossing it at Tyler and telling him to get the fuck out of his apartment before he’s declared a homewrecker. But the asshole side of him just smirks, sitting up and reveling at how sore his hips are and how he can feel a pulse along his throat from where Tyler had sucked and bitten his skin raw. His entirety though, can understand why Tyler would be nervous right now.

“I’ll get the fucking door just-” Josh pauses searching the floor for his boxers, then stops to pick up Tyler’s phone and throws it in his general direction. “Don’t go anywhere.”

Walking. Hurts. So he tiptoes, and remembers his dream. Well, memory. That had been _them._ Their freshman year of high school. Rosy-cheeked and- he remembers what they'd done after that; not so innocent.

He wonders why the memory had decided to surface now and what the importance of it was.

And why it hurt so bad.

The sun is bright for an almost winter morning but the tile floor of his kitchen is freezing as he opens his front door, shoving the memory to the back of his head, wincing, and shouting at the same time: “Alright, hold the fuck o-”

“Good morning, Joshua.”

Josh freezes.

There's a girl at his door. Not just any girl, but, his neighbor. Seemingly, the nosiest neighbor in the history of the world, who coincidentally, has a giant crush on _him_. All he really wanted to do to her was find a fly swatter big enough and-

“Good morning, _Joshua.”_ Another voice mocks. And hey, well. He knew whose voice that was.

“Ashley and I were just checking in.” The girl says, caramel sauce hair bouncing with every nod of her head. Her nails, black and boring reaching out to playfully graze Josh's bare shoulder.

“Actually,” Ashley interjects, breaking their connection and sweeping into the apartment. “I'm here to pick up my car.”

She grabs her keys from where she'd left them and dangles them from her fingers. “Debby's just nosy.”

“Well don't I have a right to be? It got pretty loud over here last night.” Debby voice wavers over the word loud and her smile doesn't quite meet her eyes as she rakes them ever so obviously over the bruises littering his neck and chest. She opens her mouth again like she's going to say something but a loud thump interrupts her.

Josh winces again crossing his arms. Looks like he wasn't the only one who had trouble getting out of bed.

A tense Tyler walks out of of the bedroom soon after, hand clutching his back presumably hurt from..any number of things. (Josh’s mattress, the fall, the rough sex,)  His sweater still hangs inside out over his shoulders and his left shoe is untied, but he’s still gorgeous and Josh’s dick could not pick a worse time to be interested.

Also, Josh distinctly remembers telling him not to go anywhere.

“Tyler?” Josh's sister asks, throwing a I’m-not-surprised-but-what-the-hell glare over her shoulder at her brother before opening her arms wide and wrapping Tyler in a hug. “Long time no see! I’m sorry I didn’t get to say hi last night.” She smooths her hair behind her ears.”How are you?”

Tyler just nods, explicitly uncomfortable with how obviously he’s standing in his not-boyfriends living room before 8AM with his clothes haphazardly thrown on. His first mistake after this, is glancing up at Josh. “I’m good. Missed you. How’s school going?”

Ashley senses this mistake immediately, so she shuts it all down. Knowing that if this keeps going it could get painfully, _painfully_ awkward. “It's going.” She smiles, in the warm way she does.

“So you're Tyler!” Debby says, crossing the threshold and straight into Tyler's space throwing out a hand. Tyler shakes it, friendly. Smiling in the warm way _he_ does. Although, confused. “I'm Debby. It's great to finally meet you.”

At this point everyone's confused, but only Debby has the nerve to cover for herself while Josh just watches. Just fucking _watches_ as she yanks on the metaphorical thread keeping his cool together.

“And by finally, I mean I've only really heard your name! Through the wall...and It's usually followed by a door slamming, so.”

Josh's heart stops. He thinks back a few weeks to the guy he had over. He remembers all that went down but as soon as the guy had.. _gone down_ a startled ‘Tyler' had ripped from Josh's lips. (“Who the fuck is Tyler?” The guy had said, “If he’s your boyfriend why don’t you get _him_ to suck your dick, _asshole._ ” Josh would’ve tried chasing him down, apologizing and coaxing him back inside, but all he could think in the moment was _‘I don’t know where he is. Trust me if I knew..’_ ) Josh tries to remember the guy’s real name before quickly realizing it's no use because real Tyler is laughing.

Real Tyler is laughing and then smirking as he exhales an “Is that so?”

Real Debby laughs too before saying something Josh is sure he’ll never forget.

“I guess you’re the one then, Tyler.”

Tyler throws a glance up at Josh then too and nonchalantly replies, “I guess so.”

Before Josh can even process what happened his sister is intervening, again, throwing an arm around Tyler’s shoulders and asking if he needs a ride to work.

The whole world is a blur but Josh thinks he hears Tyler say “My parents’ actually if that isn’t too far,” and he’s officially gone again.

Except he’s still here and Josh’s fucking sister, _god bless her,_ is trying to get his attention.

“Josh, I’m gonna take Tyler home, then I’m gonna call you and we’re gonna talk, _okay_?”

Josh doesn’t like the tone of her voice but he finds himself nodding anyway. He might be a fucking idiot, but he is _not_ stupid.

“I guess I’ll text you?” Tyler says softly, hanging by the door as if he really really doesn’t want to get into a metal death machine with a woman who they both know is capable of either saving their lives or ending them.

If there was any way he could blame him, he would. Sadly, he can’t.

The logical side of Josh says, _‘you know what, keep a text. I’ve survived without more.’_ The asshole side says, _‘kiss him right now or you’ll lose him again.’_

The real life whole says “I’ll see you around,” and closes the door before the sides take over and rip him in two.


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Our table hasn’t felt warm in years.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I think about this fic every day. I live and breathe thinking of this fic.
> 
> Are you still with me?

“So that’s it?” Brendon scoffs, scuffing leather across pavement. “That’s all.”

“What do you want me to say? I swept him off his feet and we’re running away together?” Josh spits, shifting uncomfortably. He twists as if there’s someone behind him, listening and whispering in his ear. Telling him to run. The someone has Tyler’s voice. 

“Fuck me, of course not. You know I didn’t mean it like that,” He lifts a fingerless-gloved hand to his lips, puffing around a cigarette. “I just mean is that  _ all. _ He must’ve told you how he was feeling right?”

Josh draws a blank. Had Tyler told him how he felt? Wouldn’t he be able to recall extreme heartbreak? Or maybe in a positive instance, extreme joy? “I don’t remember. I don’t think so.” He puffs his own cigarette, grimacing at the taste. That taste being grief or tobacco, Josh didn’t know. “It wasn’t really like that. I think I would remember if he did.”

“Well he obviously still wanted to fuck you, so,” Inhale, exhale. Brendon’s hair falls over his eyes with the exaggerated bobbing of his head, but stays there. Josh wonders why he couldn’t have just fucked Brendon when the opportunity had presented itself years ago. It could’ve been quick, painless, and maybe even rewarding. “Either his fiancee’s subpar in the sack, or you’re pretty damn great. Figuring out which is the challenge, I suppose.”

Josh remembers Brendon’s wife then, and realizes why. His mind flashes back to their wedding, then was the happiest-- and most sober-- he’d ever seen his boss. They were very meant to be, and very perfect. Him and Tyler had been perfect once too. 

“Have you ever dreamt about him?” Brendon asks, suddenly serious. His voice cuts through the air, solid as steel, slicing straight under Josh’s skin. “Like he’s in your head too much? So much, you start playing memories like movies?”

Josh wants to scream and say yes a million times. He wants to ask Brendon if everything in his life had become either some giant joke, or some giant coincidence. 

“Is anyone covering the store right now?” He asks instead, dismissing the subject entirely. He knows Brendon enough to know for sure it’ll come up again later in the day.

Brendon also knows Josh enough to nod without even moving his head, knowing that  _ he knows _ that this conversation is not over. “Of course not; does anyone else work here?”

“There’s that kid who works weekends sometimes. Fred maybe? Franklin?” Josh smiles, dusting off cold hands and standing. The curb behind the store always burns into the backs of his thighs. Whether it’s summer or winter, for the skin, hot and cold are hard to distinguish. 

“I fucking hate that kid, I’m telling you. His little white ass decides not to brush his hair for two days and suddenly he knows everything there is to know about reggae--” 

Josh just laughs, letting Brendon mumble on and trail off, thankful for a friend as understanding and easily distracted as he is. 

-

“She’s nice,” 

“I’m sure.”

“Stop this Joshu-”

“I’m not allowed to be upset about this?” Josh brings the phone to the opposite ear, shuffling his feet against the hardwood floor of his kitchen. 

“You're not allowed to be upset with an innocent woman!” His sister yells through the speaker. She always seems to make everything seem bigger and louder while making him feel smaller. “You should be upset with yourself for threatening their relationship!” 

Josh tries to think about what it would be like to not suffocate under the weight of his own expectations all the time. Just for a second, he allows himself to drift and think of a place where he doesn’t feel that weight, and the pain of physically feeling his heart breaking. He allows himself to pretend he never put his life on hold for something he should’ve known wouldn’t even make it to the end of the street. “I’m always upset with myself.” 

“Don’t get dramatic I’m just saying I think you should think next time.”

His phone vibrates under his palm.

“Noted.” 

His heart beats out of his chest as he ends the call.

It’s not like he should be surprised, not really. Of course he had pried open the door to Tyler’s life again. Who wouldn’t try to revive something beautiful that never should have ended? But also, of course, he hadn’t known the door had already been opened until he was inside, rummaging around with contaminated hands, touching everything left white and pristine. He’d ruined it all but whose fault was that? Not his.

“There’s really no way to tell.” Tyler had whispered, deep in thought. He’d answered his own question. One about fireworks.

“Weren’t they invented a million years ago or something?” Josh had supplied. He lied on his back then, the bed of his old pickup was warm and the layer of blankets made it soft for his shoulder blades as they dug into the crevices of the metal. 

It was the fourth of July and Josh had felt  _ new. New  _ like the smell of clean laundry.  _ New  _ like spending the night alone in a vacant field with your boyfriend.

“Yeah.” Tyler answered, hands groggily searching the sky, fingers poised in shutter shapes trying to capture the ascend and disperse of each explosive. “You’re kinda like a firework you know.”

“Yeah?” Josh flips. His shirt rides up but Tyler pretends with all his ever loving might not to notice.

“Yeah.” Tyler started to explain-- with his hands of course. “You shoot up into the air right, and look like nothing particularly...incredible.”

Josh had hit him with a pillow.

“No, see, but then,” His hands clasp around Josh’s tightly, then let go, fingers fluttering like sparks and shrapnel. “You explode. You turn into a bunch of…” Tyler had struggled with the words. Josh remembers because it might’ve been the only time he’d ever seen Tyler struggle with words. “Stars, almost. And you change lives just by coming into them.”

“So you’re calling me hot?” 

Josh loved to joke. 

He loved to pretend that wasn’t the first time he knew for certain he was very in love with his best friend, and his best friend was very in love with him. 

He realizes now, of all times, that he really took it all for granted.

He realizes now, that he really should’ve checked his phone.

There was, of course a missed call from Tyler, three texts from Tyler, and a voicemail. From Tyler.

**_“We really need to talk”_ **

**_“Meet me at the coffee shop on main”_ **

  
**_“Our table hasn’t felt warm in years.”_ **


End file.
